Chapter Text
15th April 1912
Helena thought screams were the most terrifying thing she had ever heard, but now she knows she was wrong.
The silence is much worse.
In the last moments, all survivors gathered in lifeboat no. 10 have heard the vanishing voices of those who weren’t so lucky. Those about to die in the cold waters of the Atlantic. Those for whom the Titanic was supposed to be a Ship of Dreams but turned out to be a cold coffin at the bottom of the ocean.
How many people drowned?
How many survived?
Helena thinks it looks like they are the only survivors lost in the vast empty space of the ocean. There are only them... And stars; she had never seen so many in the night sky before, purple, pink, and white splashes of color against the black curtain of the sky. But they are silent too.
She would like to cry like the other women in the boat to let go of all the fear and sadness. But all she can do is look at the darkness surrounding her, although she knows it's stupid and tries to see him. Helena would give anything to have him safe and sound with her now. To see the glimpse of his blond-red hair. Cheerful gray eyes. Mischievous smile. How could she be so foolish? How could she let them rip him from her? How could she give up so quickly? In this cold and dark hour, she realizes that all things that seemed to have so much meaning in the eyes of her parents and society were nothing compared to the time they could have shared.
God, if you bring him to me alive, I will never let anyone tear us apart again. I will never let him go. I will love him as he deserves, with all my heart and soul. Please, please, please, God, just bring him back to me safely. — She prays.
But God is silent, and Helena’s thoughts go back to the moment when it all started. The story which is ending right here in the middle of the Atlantic on this freezing April night has its beginning in an equally cold December evening in the ballroom at the headquarters of White Star Line...